Overpowering Happiness
by EightYearsandaHalf
Summary: A glimpse of Anne and Frederick's journey into parenthood.


_A/N: The name of this story comes from Volume II, Chapter XI - after Anne reads Frederick's letter, Jane Austen writes, "It was overpowering happiness."_

 _I cannot seem to muster enough motivation to work on my long stories, so here's a long one-shot instead. I hope you enjoy it!_

~~START OF STORY~~

 _November 1816_

Frederick stormed into Kellynch Hall, carelessly throwing his hat and greatcoat at the startled footman standing by the front doors.

"Sophia! Where is she?" His worried voice echoed in the vestibule.

Sophia came out into the hallway. She should have known her brother would be too impatient to walk into the drawing room where she was waiting for him and the Admiral.

Frederick's wife, Anne, had come that morning with her coachman and landaulette to visit Sophia, while Frederick had stayed at their house to oversee some minor repairs. While Anne and Sophia were taking a turn in the shrubbery, Anne suddenly complained of dizziness and exhaustion, then vomited. Sophia quickly sent Admiral Croft to fetch Frederick and a footman to fetch the apothecary, Mr. Robinson.

"Frederick, all is well. The apothecary just left. Anne is well."

"But Admiral Croft told me she was ill."

Admiral Croft walked into the hall, taking off his own greatcoat.

"Sophy! What did the apothecary say?"

Sophia repeated her assurances that Mr. Robinson had examined Anne and she was well.

"Is it influenza? I thought it might be influenza," the Admiral said.

"Perhaps it was something she ate?" Frederick said.

"Hmmm. I noticed she barely touched the pheasant at dinner last night, but I thought it was delicious."

"As did I. Your cook roasted it excellently, as always. I ate a large portion and have suffered no ill effects."

"Do you recall if she ate the parsnips? I do not like parsnips, but Anne does. Might it have been the parsnips?"

The Admiral and Frederick were so deep in their discussion that they did not notice Sophia shaking her head and quietly laughing until a small chuckle escaped her lips. Frederick turned and looked at his sister incredulously.

"What can possibly be amusing about my wife being ill?"

"Oh, Frederick! I have said several times that Anne is well. Let me take you to her. She will tell you everything."

"Tell me what? Why can you not just tell me now?"

"Some things are better told from a wife than a sister, and I dare say this is one of those cases."

~~OOO~~

Frederick knocked on the door to the bedchamber.

"Come in," Anne's voice said softly.

Frederick entered and saw his wife of eighteen months sitting up in the bed, with pillows behind her for support and a blanket over her legs. She looked pale and tired but her eyes sparkled with joy.

"Anne, I came as soon as I could. Are you well? Sophia assures me that you are, but I will not believe it until I hear from you."

"I am well, Frederick. Please, sit next to me."

Anne patted at the empty spot on the bed next to her. Frederick climbed in and took her hands in his.

"If you are not ill, then what is it?"

A blush overspread Anne's face and she beamed as her eyes met his.

"Mr. Robinson is quite certain that I am with child. It cannot be fully confirmed until I feel the quickening, which may take another three months, but he says I am exhibiting all the other typical symptoms."

Frederick looked at her in shock. It took a minute for him to find his voice. "Anne! Can it really be? We are to be parents?"

She nodded. Overcome with emotion, Frederick reached over and hugged Anne tightly. Suddenly, he pulled away.

"I am sorry. I must be more gentle." He tenderly placed a hand on her stomach. "I can hardly believe it, Anne. We are going to have a child!"

~~OOO~~

 _April 1817_

Anne sat at a table in the nursery amidst stacks of neatly folded baby clothes. In one corner of the room was a handsome cradle that had just arrived, a gift from the Harvilles. Captain Harville had fashioned it out of cherry wood and carved a large "W" on both ends. The clothes were gifts from their other friends - the Musgroves, Benwicks, and Lady Russell. Even Elizabeth and Sir Walter had sent a few fine pieces from Bath. In a separate pile lay a small blanket and matching cap made of yellow wool; Mrs. Smith had knitted them, and her accompanying letter declared that "no colour is as happy and therefore perfectly suited to a newborn baby as yellow."

Yesterday, Sophia had brought over clothes as well, and they had quickly become Anne's favourites. They were family pieces and included a few muslin gowns that Frederick had worn as a baby.

As Anne fingered a pair of tiny silk shoes, Louisa and Henrietta sat at the table looking over samples of hangings and admiring the ones Anne had set aside as her favourites.

Mary sat next to Anne, feeling quite smug as the woman in the room with the most mothering experience, if length of time were the only consideration. Mary delighted in her superiority on the subject and was bestowing her great wisdom on Anne at that moment.

"It is the worst pain you can imagine - no, more than that. It is as if you are being split in two from the inside out."

"Mary! This is hardly helpful!" Henrietta exclaimed.

Thankfully, nothing Mary said could alarm Anne, for Anne not only knew her sister's propensity for exaggeration, but also knew that if Mary could go through childbirth more than once, it could not be so bad. Further, Mrs. Musgrove had already talked to Anne about the subject at length.

"But the birth is not even the worst of it," Mary continued. "No, even worse is what follows. The incessant crying when they are babies! And how they rattle away in your ear and make such abominable noise as they run about when they are older! Little Charles and Walter are six and four now, and getting worse every year. I am sure this little one will be just as terrible." Mary touched her swollen stomach; she and Charles were expecting their third child about two months after Anne and Frederick.

"It is not _that_ bad," Louisa said. "Yes, there was pain when little James was born, but it was all forgotten when I heard his voice and saw his beautiful face. And he is such a quiet little baby!"

"I agree," Henrietta added. "It was the same way for me and little Ettie. And she only cries because she has no other way to communicate with me. How distressed I too would be if no one understood me!"

Mary frowned. It was neither the first nor would it be the last time she wished both of the former Miss Musgroves had settled farther than ten miles from her and Anne. Changing the subject, Mary said,

"I do wish, Anne, that you would agree to send for Sir Richard Leigh when the time comes. I asked Lady Russell to make enquiries when she was in Bath, and her acquaintances had only good things to say about him."

"I have no need for an accoucher from Bath, Mary. Mrs. Stone lives only six years miles away and has seen Mrs. Musgrove through eight births and you through two, as well as Henrietta and Louisa just last year. I prefer a local midwife who is known to my family over a distant, expensive doctor."

Displeased at her sister's response, which had remained unchanged since she first introduced the subject two months ago, Mary excused herself and left the room.

Henrietta leaned over to Anne. "Mary is only unhappy because she wants Sir Richard to attend her birth and Charles said no. She was hoping that if you and Frederick engaged his services, Charles could be persuaded to change his mind."

Anne shook her head with a smile. "Come, Henrietta and Louisa, will you help me put these clothes in the wardrobe?"

~~OOO~~

 _June 1817_

Frederick paced furiously back and forth on the carpet of the room, listening to the muffled grunts and voices in the adjacent room. So far, he had not heard anything to alarm him. As he turned to make another pass, the door opened and Sophia entered. He stopped and looked up.

"What news, Sophia?"

"Everything is progressing well, but it will be many hours yet."

He resumed his pacing again.

"Frederick, you have been walking over the same area of this poor carpet for over two hours now. You shall wear a hole in it. If it were not so late, I would tell you to go outside. Will you not read a book?"

"I already suggested that, Sophy," Admiral Croft said from a chair by the fireplace. "He does not want to read, or talk to me, or do anything except pace the room."

Frederick had wanted to stay in the birthing room with Anne, but Mrs. Stone would not allow it. Though she was an accomplished midwife of thirty years, she held onto some antiquated notions and was too set in her ways. Therefore, only women were allowed inside, so Lady Russell, Sophia, and Mrs. Musgrove were assisting Anne, along with a nurse. Mary had been quite offended not to be asked, but Anne, knowing just how useful her sister would be, explained that it was best for the health of her unborn child. Charles and Frederick had heartily agreed, and none of Mary's vehement protestations could persuade them to change their minds. It was also fortunate that Anne's labour pains started late at night, which meant only Admiral Croft kept Frederick company as he nervously waited.

"Anne is in very capable hands," Sophia said to her brother. "All you need to do is wait, and it could take till past sunrise."

He ignored her and continued pacing.

"Will you not at least eat something?" Sophia looked at the untouched tray of cold meats and muffins that the maid had brought in earlier. "You will be of no use to Anne if you starve yourself. Come, it is already past midnight."

"The muffins are quite delicious. My compliments to your cook, Frederick," Admiral Croft added.

Reluctantly, Frederick sat down at a table and put a muffin on a plate. Sitting beside him, Sophia looked on sympathetically.

"After many years as captain of your own ship, it must be difficult to be in a situation that you cannot control."

"You know me too well, Sophia."

"Waiting in inaction is dreadful, but it will not last very long."

"I only… I am well aware of the dangers of childbirth," he said quietly.

Though the Musgroves had been a lucky family, Frederick knew several acquaintances who had lost their wives in childbirth, whether it had been the first child, the fourth, or the tenth. Anne being an older first-time mother raised the odds against her as well. A life without her by his side… it was unthinkable.

"Both Anne's mother and Mary experienced smooth, trouble-free births. Anne has a very good chance of the same," Sophia said.

"I know, but it is not an absolute certainty."

Sophia stayed in the room another quarter hour as Frederick finished his muffin and a cup of coffee. He sat back in his chair and began to relax when a loud scream pierced through the air.

"Anne!"

The chair crashed to the ground as Frederick hastily stood up and charged into the birthing room. He started at the sight before him. Anne sat in a birthing chair wearing only a chemise, which was drenched in sweat. Her face was red and her arms and legs shook violently. Lady Russell sat on her left, rubbing Anne's hand and whispering. Mrs. Musgrove sat on the right.

Mrs. Stone was kneeling down to examine Anne when she heard the door open. She spun her head and her eyes went wide with alarm. "Sir! Captain Wentworth! You must leave the room immediately!"

"I shall do no such thing! You must help her, for God's sake!"

"I _am_ helping her. Her body is progressing and preparing to deliver the baby. It is completely normal."

"But she is in pain! Surely there is something more you can do!"

"We are already providing her with every possible comfort, sir."

"Frederick," Anne said weakly as she drew rapid breaths. "I am well. I am well."

At the sound of her voice, Frederick rushed to her side. Lady Russell moved away so he could take her seat.

"Anne. What can I do?" He looked around helplessly until his eyes fixed on the bowl of water sitting on a nearby table with a cloth draped over the edge. He reached over and dipped the cloth in the water, wrung it and gently wiped Anne's forehead.

"Captain Wentworth, that is Nurse Ballard's responsibility. Your responsibility is to leave the room and await news of the birth," Mrs. Stone said.

"No. I will not abandon my wife."

"I have told you before - I do not allow men in the birthing room. She has plenty of support already."

Anne reached for Frederick's fingers and squeezed them. "I should like him to stay."

"Mrs. Stone, might you make an exception?" Lady Russell said.

"No. A man's presence will cause more harm than good."

"I will not be in the way," Frederick said. "Forgive me, Mrs. Stone. I do not wish to offend you. But if my wife wishes for me to stay, I _will_ stay."

Mrs. Stone pursed her lips. "Very well, but this highly irregular."

~~OOO~~

 _Seven hours later..._

Soft sunlight filtered through the windows in the room. Sitting up in the bed and cradling the baby in her arms, Anne watched as her newborn daughter quietly suckled at her breast. Frederick reached over and gently brushed the baby's soft brown hair. The three of them were alone; everyone else had left the room to give the family some privacy.

"She's so beautiful," Anne whispered to him.

"She is indeed. Just like her mother."

Anne smiled. "We shall need a name for her."

Though it was not a tradition in his family, Frederick knew that many families, including the Elliots, named the eldest daughter after the mother and the eldest son after the father.

"What do you think of Anna?"

"Anna is lovely, but I was hoping to honour a different family member."

"What name did you have in mind?" Frederick knew how close Anne had been to her mother but was not fond of the name Elizabeth, as he associated it with her cold and conceited eldest sister. However, having just watched Anne suffer through hours of painful childbirth, he vowed to accept any name she wanted.

"I like Catherine."

Frederick looked at her in surprise. "My mother's name?"

"Yes. My mother's name is carried on by my eldest sister, but no one in your family has your mother's name."

Frederick's chest constricted. Anne knew he had been as close to his mother as she had been to hers; his mother's death when he was only nine years old had been a severe blow.

"It's perfect, Anne. Thank you."

"Excuse me, Captain Wentworth, but Mrs. Wentworth has been up all night and must get some rest now." Frederick turned to see Mrs. Stone eyeing him warily from the doorway and Nurse Ballard standing behind her. "My work here is done, but Nurse Ballard will continue to care for her over the next month."

Frederick nodded and kissed his wife and daughter, then escorted Mrs. Stone downstairs. He rung for the carriage and as they waited, he said, "Thank you for everything, Mrs. Stone. I am very grateful that you allowed me to stay with my wife."

"I must say, Captain Wentworth, you did a very admirable job. I can see that you and Mrs. Wentworth love each other very much. I may have to reconsider my restriction on having husbands in the birthing room."

After seeing her off, Frederick realised how quiet it was in the house. Lady Russell, Sophia, Admiral Croft and Mrs. Musgrove had already left. After the birth, Frederick's cook offered the guests an early breakfast, then they returned to their respective homes. They would visit again once Anne had recovered enough to receive visitors.

Frederick's stomach rumbled loudly. He had not noticed his hunger during the birth, but now that the adrenaline had subsided, he was starving. Before eating, however, he wanted to check on his wife and daughter one more time. He went back upstairs and quietly opened the door. Nurse Ballard turned to him, smiled, and pressed her forefinger to her lips.

Three logs burned in the fireplace to keep the air warm on this cool spring morning. The curtains were drawn to darken the room. Frederick walked to the bed and pulled back the hangings to gaze upon his slumbering wife. She looked exhausted from her long ordeal, and yet more beautiful than he had ever seen her before. He was in awe of all she had endured to bring forth their daughter into the world.

His eyes moved to the cradle where his mother's namesake, little Catherine Wentworth, slept. Her tiny fingers were curled into little fists; he reached over to touch them. She was so small, so delicate, so… perfect.

Frederick had wondered how he would feel when his first child was born. Harville had spoken to him of love and pride, while Benwick talked of wonder and gratitude. Indeed, Frederick felt all of those emotions today, but what he felt most of all, as he watched his wife and daughter sleeping peacefully, was overpowering happiness.

THE END


End file.
